


Happily Never After

by tisfan



Series: Open Ask Prompts [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Eavesdropping, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, communication flow doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9394901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Anonymous asks: if your prompts are still open, how about a winteriron proposal fic with ~misunderstandings~? smut would be great if you're feeling it, but pretty much just where ever this idea takes you would be the best. thank you!!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Also combined with hc from tumblerite Cr3v, who suggested that Bucky is the only person that Tony lets call him Anthony, and that he only does it when he's being very serious about something... so, for them, I dedicate this epic miscommunication...

“You know, Anthony,” Bucky said, putting on his most sincere expression, “we’ve been together for like a little over a year now, and --” 

“If you lead with that, he’s going to think you’re breaking up with him,” Steve pointed out. 

That was true. Tony was prone to jumping to all the wrong conclusions almost constantly; especially where it concerned their relationship. 

“Argh!” Bucky ran both hands through his hair, tugging when he got to the base of his skull. “I don’t even know how to do this.” 

“It’s Tony,” Steve said. “You can’t build anticipation, you know that. He’ll either not be listening, or he’ll spin his wheels trying to figure out what’s wrong. Just keep it simple. Preferably after he’s had a cup of coffee.” 

Bucky snatched up the little velvet-covered ring box. The ring was simple, a thick, adamantium band, set with a flat-cut ruby. Easy enough, a combination of their signature colors (adamantium for Bucky, hot rod red for Tony) even if it was expensive, and custom-designed. It would look nice on Tony’s finger, Bucky thought, with no edges, so Tony could wear it even when he was working. 

“Do you think he’ll say yes?” Bucky couldn’t help the words that spilled out. Nerves, he guessed. 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, raw and honest as he always was, but _completely not helpful_. “It’s Tony. If I could predict anything he’d do, I’d have fewer headaches.” 

Bucky snorted. That much was true. Unpredictable was Tony’s middle name. “He loves me,” Bucky said. 

“We all know that,” Steve said, rolling his eye. “And it’s not a matter of love, I don’t think. He’s just… got issues. Marriage may be one of those things. I mean, you two have been together for almost longer than anyone else he’s ever dated. Don’t… don’t take it to mean he doesn’t love you, if marriage isn’t something he’s up for.” 

“So, you think I shouldn’t --” 

Steve sighed. “I think you should,” he said, “because you _want_ to.” 

Bucky tucked the ring back into his jacket pocket. “Okay, one more time, for luck.” 

Steve rolled his eyes indulgently. “Okay, hit me.” 

Bucky drew in a deep breath, reached for the ring. He took Steve’s hand in his and knelt down next Steve’s chair. He conjured up a picture in his head of his tousle-headed boyfriend, eyes still heavy from sleep, coffee cup in one hand. “Anthony, would you do me the very great honor of agreeing to be my husband?” He presented the little box to Steve. 

“Perfect,” Steve said, and leaned over to kiss Bucky’s forehead. “That was lovely, Bucky, do it just like that. He’ll say yes.” 

* * *

 

Tony ducked behind the wall, hiding. His heart hammered in his chest, lungs heaving for oxygen in a world that had suddenly caught fire. No, no, _no_. 

God, it hurt. Hurt. Like someone had ripped his heart right out of his chest, and he knew what the fuck that felt like, because he’d gone through it before. His genius brain couldn’t help but replay what he’d just seen; Bucky on one knee at Steve’s feet, holding up a little square box, the shape of which was familiar to every single person. 

He was suddenly put in mind of a sampler of embroidery his mother had hung in one of the bathrooms of the Manhattan mansion. 

 _If you love someone, let them go_  
_If they come back to you, they’re yours  
__If they don’t, they never were_  

For as long as anyone could remember, Bucky had belonged to Steve, belonged at Steve’s side. Maybe they’d had a thing, back in the day. Bucky’d never said, but Tony never asked, either. Not wanting to know, because Captain America was not a thing that Tony could compete with. He’d known that his whole life. But there’d been Peggy, and then, more recently, Sharon. 

The thing with Sharon had ended, amiably enough -- they were still friends, Steve had said, but the spark just wasn’t there -- and Steve had been single again, for the first time, and in a good place to date, since Bucky had been recovered. 

So, of course, Tony was just the side dish, someone to kill time with until the spot at Steve’s right hand was open again. 

And now Bucky was laying a claim in a more permanent way. _Jesus_ , was it too much for Bucky to at least have broken things off with Tony before moving on to greener pastures? 

“Friday, get me a suit on the landing pad,” Tony said, pushing up from the wall and striding toward the elevator with ground-eating steps. Fuck this, he couldn’t stay here, not right now. 

* * *

 

NO ENTRY. 

The hand-scanner beeped at Bucky, flaring red. 

“What the hell?” Bucky stared down at his right hand as if he expected it to have also been replaced. The penthouse door had opened to his print for almost nine months now, since Bucky had officially moved in. He still had a suite downstairs, where he kept a few things, and occasionally retreated to when Tony was in a mood and playing music entirely too loud, but… 

“Friday?” 

“I’m sorry,” Friday said, her accent snippy, “but you no longer have access to this floor.” 

Bucky sank to the floor, disbelieving. What the utter hell was going on? He hadn’t seen Tony all day; he’d gone for a flight in the Iron Man suit before even stopping at the kitchen for coffee, but that was okay, sometimes Tony got a particular craving for coffee from a shop halfway across the world, and impulse control was still a thing Tony didn’t have. And then he’d been in the workshop on a full lock-down, which usually meant he’d had a brainwave and didn’t want to be disturbed. 

But Tony had left the ‘shop without saying anything to anyone and taken refuge in the penthouse. 

And apparently locked Bucky out. 

What. The. Hell. 

Bucky put his back to the wall right across from the door and waited. Friday would see him on the security cameras and eventually the AI would get tired of watching him; she’d tell Tony he was out there.

When the door slid open, it wasn’t Tony at all, but Bruce, looking exhausted. 

“Oh,” he said, staring down at Bucky. “Haven’t you done enough?” 

Bucky squinted up, his sensitive nose picking up traces of whiskey. “Can I just --” 

“No,” Bruce said. “You can’t. He’s passed out drunk for the first time in months, and he’s in no state to talk to _you_. You know, I wouldn’t have encouraged this, if I thought you were going to --” Bruce waved his hands around. “-- screw it all up.” 

“What the fuck even, Bruce?” Bucky scrambled to his feet. 

“Did you think he wasn’t going to find out about your little proposal? I can’t believe you’d hurt him like this.” Bruce shook his head, then, when Bucky grabbed his wrist to try to keep him from walking away, Bruce whirled on him. “Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like that.” 

* * *

 

The hangover was bad, like nightmare levels of bad. Even with the blinds still neatly over the windows, the only light coming from the bathroom and the alarm clock on his bedside table, Tony felt like someone was drilling an icepick into his forehead. 

“I cannot believe I used to drink like that all the time,” he muttered, getting one hand over his eyes to hold them in place. Felt like he was Arnold Schwarzenegger in _Total Recall_ when he was outside the domes in Mars. Oh, yeah, that was just the picture he needed to have, waking up. Christ. 

He staggered to his feet, stumbled into the bathroom and brought up what had to be at least half a bottle. Ug. The floor looked nice, which was good, because Tony was about to meet it, up close and personal. 

“Here,” someone said. Tony managed to roll over to look up -- and up -- at a very pissed-off Natasha. “Glass of water and some pills. Get up, Tony.” 

“Why do you hate me, Ginger Snaps?” Tony groaned. “What even are these?” He indicated the little bowl where she’d placed three purple and black caplets. 

“Poison,” she said, flatly, then stepped over him to get a washcloth. She wet it, squatted, and washed Tony’s face for him like he was a toddler. 

Oh, well, in that case. Tony tipped the pills into his mouth and chased them with the water. Cold and wet, the water soothed his aching throat and Nat’s hands on the washcloth were gentle, no matter how much she seemed like she’d rather break his neck for him. 

“What were you doing last night?” she asked, wetting the cloth again and wringing it out. She pressed the cool material against the back of his neck and _God_ , that felt good. 

“Getting drunk,” Tony said, because really, wasn’t it obvious? He used to be better at it, too. He vaguely remembered Bruce taking the second bottle away from him and not wanting to get up to get it. “What are you even doing in here?” 

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “It’s me,” she said, like that was supposed to mean something, and Tony figured maybe it did. There weren’t places that Natasha could be kept out of; if she hadn’t invaded a locked room it was because was wasn’t interested in what was on the other side of the door. “Care to tell me _why_ you were drinking?” 

“Why ask me,” Tony said, “when he’s your friend.” 

“Tony,” Natasha said. She ran two fingers down the side of his face to catch him under the jaw. “Look at me and tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it --” 

“You can’t fix this, Nat,” Tony said, wearily. “Not for me. There’s no fix. They’re gonna get married and live happily ever after, and I’m just not. But we knew that, didn’t we? Happily never happens for me.” 

Natasha blinked at him a few times. “Walk me through that slowly, hmmm?” 

Christ, why did Nat torture him like this? What had he done to her in a past life that she wanted to make him drag out the details?   

“I saw them, Nat,” Tony admitted, trying to keep his voice steady. “The whole deal, down on one knee, the ring, the kiss, everything. I saw it. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Saw… who?” 

“Are you playing stupid for a reason?” 

“No, Tony,” Natasha said. “I am legit confused here. Who is getting married?” 

“Bucky and Steve.” 

Natasha swallowed hard, then actually fell backward, her butt hitting the bathroom tiles hard and she rocked backward until she came to rest against the side of the shower. “Jesus.” 

“I know, right?” Tony asked. He pushed up from the floor, because now he really needed to chase down that other bottle. “I can’t believe I ever thought --” 

“Whatever you’re going to say, stop right now,” Natasha said. She was on her feet and had her hand on his shoulder, “because it’s going to be wrong. And if you don’t say it out loud, you won’t have to regret it later.” 

Oh, he already had regrets. So very many regrets. Letting Bucky get close to him, letting himself believe, that just once, it might be real, that it might be _possible…_    

“Tony, you’re not listening,” she said. “Please, just go talk to him. I promise, you want to hear what he’s got to say.” 

“Okay, all right,” Tony snarled, pulling his arm away. 

“Wait, first,” Natasha said, getting in front of him and blocking the door, “brush your teeth, fix your hair.” 

“I don’t need to dress up for my execution, Itsy Bitsy,” Tony said. But Nat just glared at him and it was easier to humor her. Also, she was still perfectly capable of breaking his arm if he pissed her off too much. 

* * *

 

Bucky was exhausted; he’d gone twenty rounds with several of the super-soldier sandbags, ruptured one after the other until Steve finally tried to prod him into the showers, and possibly sleep. 

Bucky had cleaned up, but there was no way sleep was a thing, even if he had someplace to sleep, which he didn’t. There was no way he was going to let any of the other Avengers see him sacked out on the sofa in the common room, and despite Steve’s offer, he didn’t want to have to pretend to sleep on Steve’s couch. Because he wouldn’t sleep and then Steve would know about it, and the argument would just go on. 

So he was on the roof, smoking. He hadn’t chained his way through a pack in a long damn time. Even back during the war, those first few desperate weeks after Steve had rescued them from Azzano, before he really found out that nicotine wouldn’t help him anymore, he’d killed his own cigarette rations and everyone else’s that he could beg, borrow, steal or win. It hadn’t helped. 

It still didn’t help, except he didn’t know what else to do. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised when Tony found him up there; the sun still just creeping along the streets, early morning fog lifting. Tony looked miserable; his face was pale, lips gray, eyes dark and heavy. He’d taken some care with his hair, and he smelled a little like soap and toothpaste. He leaned against the wall near where Bucky was sitting and kicked his foot up, balancing on the other leg. If he looked at Bucky, there was no way to tell; he was wearing dark sunglasses. “Natasha said you wanted to talk to me.” 

“Do we need Tash running messages for us like we’re in grade school?” Bucky said, lighting another smoke. “Is that what we’re doing?” 

“Apparently,” Tony said. 

“Bruce said you were pretty upset last night,” Bucky ventured. “I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d react like that, you know.” 

Tony dropped his shades down his nose a little, studying Bucky over the rims. “How did you expect me to react? You want me to be happy?” 

“I guess not,” Bucky said. He reached into his pocket. He still had the little box and he tumbled it around in his hand a bit. “Stupid of me. Thought… nevermind what I thought. Thinking’s not my job. Fuck it. You don’t want it, you don’t want it. Throw it off the side of the building and we’ll never talk about it again.” 

Tony didn’t like to be handed things. Bucky sighed, looked down at the box and let it slide out of his hand. It rattled with it hit the cement, rolled over and popped open, spilling the ring out. It glittered there, in the faint sunlight. 

“I just want you to know, Tony,” Bucky said. Reaching out to him, right at that very moment, might have been the hardest thing Bucky ever did. He was so scared that Tony was about to drop him, just the way he’d been dropped by Steve, and _that_ had been an accident… and this would be on purpose. “I don’t need to be your husband to love you. I just… wanted it.” 

Tony didn’t say anything; he just stared, then twisted into a squat to pick the ring up off the ground. He turned the gold band in his fingers, looking at it, then his breath caught. 

“ _Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul_ ,” Tony said, reading the inscription on the inside of the ring. _And in the darkness, bind them._ He turned, very slowly, hands shaking. “You didn’t buy this for Steve Rogers.” 

 _What_? “What? Tony, no,” Bucky said, confused. “What the hell did you --” 

“You bought this for me,” Tony said, his voice low, choking. 

“Of course I bought it for you,” Bucky snapped, waving his hands around. “Who the _fuck_ else would I want to marry?” 

“I saw you,” Tony said, and he was shaking so hard now that Bucky actually put a hand out to steady him. 

Oh. _Oh._  

“You saw me practicing,” Bucky said, his voice equally unsteady. “An’ you thought… you thought I was makin’ a move. On _Steve_?” Okay, seriously, just no. Why the fuck did everyone want to pair him up with Steve? Christ, he loved the guy, but he was just… no. No. They were best friends, they were comrades in arms, they were _brothers_. And Steven G. Rogers was a _pain in the ass_. 

“You want to marry me?” 

“ _Yes_.” Bucky thought about that for a second, then frowned. “Give me that back.” 

“No,” Tony said, looking down at the ring greedily. “No takebacks.” 

“I ain’t tellin’ people you didn’t let me propose to you proper,” Bucky said. Tony rather reluctantly handed the ring back. Bucky dusted it off, collected the box, then dropped down to one knee in front of Tony. 

And, being Tony, he did a little flutter, ending with his hands clasped together next to one cheek. “For me?” 

Bucky barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Anthony,” he said, “I’d be very pleased if you --” 

“Yes.” 

“-- would do me --” 

“Yes!” Tony smirked. “I will absolutely ‘do you.’” 

“-- the honor of becoming my husband.” 

Tony pursed his lips. “I’ll have to think about it.” 

And before Bucky had any time at all to make a face, to be disappointed, or even become exasperated (because really, Tony did come with an awful lot of pre-existing exasperation) Tony grabbed Bucky’s wrist and hauled him to his feet. “Yes, yes, yes. I will. I want to. _Yes_. Absolutely. Let’s do that.” 

Bucky managed to pry the ring out of Tony’s hands (again!) long enough to get it _on_ his hand, where it was supposed to be before Tony finally knocked him against the wall and kissed him stupid. 

“I can’t,” Tony said, when they finally came up for air, “believe that you put the One Ring’s quote on the inside of our engagement ring.” 

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe you thought I would propose to Steve,” Bucky retorted. “Why would I want _Steve_ when I have _you_?” 

Bucky didn’t credit himself with being the brains of the operation, but he knew exactly when he’d said the right thing. Tony lit up like a sunrise. With surprising gentleness, he leaned into Bucky’s kiss again, his mouth pressed, hot and soft, against Bucky’s lip. “I love you,” Tony said. 

Bucky grinned, shrugged, tipped Tony a wink. “I know.” 

For just a second, Tony gaped at him. “Oh, good, good. _Lord of the Rings_ and _Star Wars_ in the same proposal. You are such a nerd. Kiss me again.” 

“As you wish.” 

 

 

* * *

 

Lego Reenactment Scenes -- I've included a sample, but go look at the full posts, too... I am soo happy. THANK YOU SO MUCH, this is GREAT!!

 

[The One Ring](http://tisfan.tumblr.com/post/156163606329/feelingsinwinter-tony-didnt-say-anything-he)   and [No Takebacks](http://tisfan.tumblr.com/post/156163677274/feelingsinwinter-no-tony-said-looking-down)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, I got some lovely fan art (fan work? fan tribute?) from [Kellen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellen/pseuds/Kellen) in the form of a lego reenactment of scenes from this story, complete with Tony's smirk and the ONE RING.
> 
> OMG, I cannot tell you how freaking CUTE this is, so you're just going to have to go look at it.


End file.
